Found Now

The whole of you fills my days now
Those little pieces of you 
Busily, brilliantly quieting 
The noise I thought never would leave
The noise I feared would leave 

Steward of Skies: A Haiku

Dear John, I love you
for proposing our hearts hear
the quiet, the roar. 

The loon’s skidding feet
across glassy still tables
for to glacier meet.

The death then new life
when lightning then lumber clashed
you championed this.

Be still would this land
and her creatures take her hand
in fellowship one. 

Knuckle Ball

I hope there’ll be fog
And some small clearing
And though I cannot command it
It seems
The situation would demand it
Given all the blind searching
The hanging heavy in the air
The questions
The confusions
The rain always looming off-shore 
I want the Sun to wait in complete quiet 
Just that once
As it bounces inside with anticipation 
Over who is about to receive his newly perfected knuckle ball 


If I 
Must feel but
Stay silent outside
With wide eyes
With fine heart 
And pen for my sword 
Will you

If you 
Must come but
With honor toward me
Stay farther
Stay shorter
And slay me no more
Will you 

I, Ophelia

I long for a hamlet
That’s all I will say
I won’t ask the point on the globe

Whence its green, life springs forth
A quiet and True north 
There again I know I’ll hear my soul